October 3, 2006

King of Spades

The cards flew
like brightly plumaged birds,
scattering shining, multi-colored discs
like sequins from an evening gown,
and whimsical bits of colored paper
like swirling confetti.
Clang-clang-clang went the
slot machine, and somewhere,
a woman screamed
with joy.

The cards fled,
like fickle birds,
toward warmer climes
and greener pastures.
The cocktails flowed
and flickered fetchingly
in the electric lights,
and the dealers
studiously averted their eyes,
hastily palming handfuls
that meant nothing at all.

Time passed like money
between countless fingers,
and disappeared, and then,

the cards fell
like wounded birds,
helpless and empty-eyed,
and, in the end,
indifferent.

Clang-clang-clang went the
slot machine, and somewhere,
a lonely woman
wept.




Spring 2006.

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